


Through Scattered Ashes

by sannlykke



Series: 戦国奇跡 [5]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Background Relationships, Bittersweet Ending, Damnit Kagami, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Warring states period
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5863207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sannlykke/pseuds/sannlykke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Court painter Kuroko Tetsuya makes the mistake of dropping a treasured heirloom into a pond.</p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <br/>
    <i>“Don’t tell anyone about this, alright? About me existing. If you remember when you wake up, that is.”</i>
    <br/>
    <i>“I won’t. Will I see you again?”</i>
    <br/>
    <i>“Of course you’ll see me.” Kagami gestures vaguely behind him, but there is a smile on his face that hadn’t been there before. “You see me in the pond every day, don’t you?”</i>
    <br/>
  </p>
</blockquote>
            </blockquote>





	Through Scattered Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> this is the last installment of the sengoku series, but since it's mostly focused on the kagakuro you don't have to have read the others to understand it. background ships include akamomo, aokise and midotaka.
> 
> a kanzashi is a hair ornament. please listen to [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iXkqbqzs1U4) while reading (or, alternately, the [japanese cover version](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1qNdY2hV4A)).
> 
> there's a running theme here called 'i continuously plagiarize my own weird sad themes' but third time's the charm so, well, please bear with me this one last time.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> (happy birthday, kuroko)

“Kuroko Tetsuya, is it?”

He keeps his head bowed until the footsteps come to a stop in front of him, the swish of Akashi Seijuurou’s crimson-and-gold robes stilling inches from his face. Two paintings hang on the wall up front—one of a cherry tree, its brown, spidery branches brimming with flowers. The other, red-and-gold koi swimming in a sheltered pond, their fins translucent and shimmering on the thin paper.

“Yes, Akashi-sama.”

Akashi lets the word hang in the air for three seconds. Tetsuya looks up at him at the end of the pause, just in time to catch a fleeting smile. A trick of the eye, maybe; he’s heard many things about the man standing before him, and all of them point to something other than easy smiles. “Satsuki will be waiting for you. Reo, if you would—”

Only when Tetsuya reaches his destination does he realize his legs are, ever so slightly, shaking.

 

 

 

Tetsuya has no idea how Akashi even found him in the first place. The Kuroko name _had_ once been in the circle of elite artists that were on request for the Imperial Family, but ever since his parents had passed his grandmother had moved them back to the village where she had grown up, out of sight and mind. And that had been more than a decade ago. Tetsuya had grown up with a brush in hand, and their little family survived off savings and the occasional painting a traveler would snatch up. They were far from wealthy, but thankful that they did not starve.

Even then, they kept to themselves, and when his grandmother passed, Tetsuya continued on tirelessly. There were no more servants; he would wake at dawnbreak to feed his pet chickens and the few koi they had left, and set about to an entire day of painting and studies. The village offered little in ways of pleasure, but painting and watching the fish grow, day by day, had been enough for him. Up until the day he found his house surrounded by imperial banners. The man at the very front sat atop a white horse, his red hair striking against the sky as he read from a scroll.

“Tetsuya, first son of Kuroko Noboru.”

It had not been a question. He was used to this, Kuroko had realized when he bent down at the sight of the shogun’s crest. Completely and utterly, and there had been no choice imparted to him from the get-go.

 

 

 

—Though, it is not a _terrible_ existence, he would have to admit.

Tetsuya quickly understood after the initial meeting that he was to serve the princess on a more regular basis than the shogun himself. Akashi is often away on matters of the state, and more often than not Tetsuya is left alone to paint, with the occasional servant wandering into whatever garden or room he was working in to check that he hadn’t disappeared. He never means to, but perhaps being from a common family meant it was easy to lose track of him, as many people are prone to doing.

He is putting the last touches on a petal when the door behind him slides open. “Tetsu-kun?”

“Midai-sama.” Tetsuya puts down his brush, turning away from the camellias. Today is the last day of bloom, perhaps, with the weather looking to warm up soon, but there is no refusing Satsuki. Especially when Akashi is not here to divert her attentions. He turns and attempts a bow, but she catches him at the last moment. “Is there something I can do for you?”

“I’ve told you, you don’t have to be so formal,“ she smiles brightly, stepping back to allow him to stand. “You were talking about us not having any fish when you first came, right?”

He nods. “It was more of a comment. I don’t wish to impose—“

“But you aren’t,” Satsuki pouts, reaching out. It is an expression Tetsuya has grown to know all too well, though not one exclusively used on him. “How can we keep a painter known for portraits of fish without any fish for him to paint?”

That much is true. Tetsuya is more than happy with the myriad gardens included in the estate, all of which Akashi allowed him to enter. And there _were_ fish, actually—but none of them had caught his eye so far.

(He sometimes wonders what became of the fish in his pond, if the neighboring cats had caught them all.)

Perhaps his offhand comments to the Prince, who visits often, have finally reached Satsuki’s ears. She leads him through a hall, turning right—there is a secluded pond further down, Tetsuya recalls, but he does not venture there often. “But there _are_ fish, M—Satsuki-san. Do you wish to have a lesson in the courtyard…?”

There is a twinkle in her eye when she shakes her head at him. “Not today, Tetsu-kun. There was a shipment from China this morning—oh, it’s _beautiful_.“

_It?_

Satsuki must’ve caught something in his eyes, for she suddenly slows down as they approach. “Oh, I wish I didn’t have to tell you this, but—there _were_ more, you see, but the travel must’ve been terrible, and they passed on before reaching here. Though I promise we _will_ take care of this one.”

He nods, feeling a pang of guilt, though this time he keeps it carefully masked. Gravel crunches beneath their zori from missteps off the stone path. Here, a willow tree no taller than Tetsuya himself spans half the pond, its new leaves pale and shaking in the gentle breeze. On the other side, closer to the outer wall, is a cherry tree, pink buds just starting to show. Smooth stones circle the pond, the lotuses still sleepy in their winter shrouds. Tetsuya looks in, fascinated.

A single large koi, entirely crimson, hides in the murky water beneath a cluster of lotus plants. _No_ , Tetsuya thinks, looking harder as the fish swims towards the other side of the pond. There is more than that—a splotch of brilliant orange ribbons across its lower back, overlaid with sparse black stripes. Its scales gleam and shimmer even from afar, striking against the mossy green of the pond.

Almost like a tiger. He wonders out loud, “I’ve never seen this pattern before. It _is_ beautiful, Satsuki-san.”

“I suppose it’s a new breed—none of the other koi we ordered had this pattern, either.” She breathes out in contentment, though the tremor in her voice alerts the painter. It is still winter, however late into the season, and Tetsuya takes off his own jacket. “Oh no, Tetsu-kun, I’m alright. I just—it’s even more beautiful up close.”

Tetsuya nods, watching the koi circle lazily beneath a willow branch. It seems to refuse to come any closer, or into the sunlight. Maybe it can already sense Satuski’s cat that prowled the perimeters of their palace, though of late Tetsuya had rarely seen it tampering with any of the other fish. “I’m sure it is, Midai-sama, but I can’t have you catching a cold standing out here. Akashi-sama will kill me if he finds out.”

He probably would, quite literally. Satsuki nods, wrapping her sleeves around herself tightly as they walk back inside. “Ah, I wouldn’t want to cause your untimely demise, would I?”

“Of course,” Tetsuya replies with a thankful smile. Then, indicating towards the pond, “I suppose it would be more keen on approaching when spring comes, soon. I can start painting then, if it suits you.”

“That would be wonderful!”

He cannot help but laugh quietly, and they retreat into the warmth of the castle.

 

 

 

Akashi returns on the vernal equinox, his arrival sending ripples of activity down the spacious hallways. Tetsuya can hear the commotion from a mile away, none of it coming from his lord. He puts away a finished calligraphic scroll and, after rolling two other paintings up, goes to meet the fray.

He sees the prince first, his face half-turned in the midst of an argument with a blond stranger trailing behind. Daiki’s visits have, according to the princess, become more of a regular occurrence after Tetsuya’s arrival, though he’d never brought Kise before. Behind both of them is another man, his spectacles lending an air of solemness to him that is all but lost when he jumps at an even taller man poking him in the ribs. A ragtag crew that only seems stranger when Tetsuya is reminded of who they are.

Whatever his background was a couple generations back, Tetsuya finds himself far removed from their stations. It is not hard for him to observe how Akashi is bringing together under his influence those young scions of powerful families, who were of similar age and upbringing. Their world is changing fast—the wars in the south and east are still going, but they do not rage as far or as bloody as they did when he was younger. Tetsuya supposes he is lucky to even be able to watch this happen.

Although there is something to be said about the rapidity of these happenings that sets him on edge.

“Oi, Tetsu—” Daiki spots him and waves him over, completely ignoring any and all protocol for someone of his status. Well. Tetsuya can’t exactly refuse, as much as he participates in private bickering—he walks on over, bowing at the rest of the lords in attendance.

Thankfully Akashi decides to intervene. “Tetsuya, Daiki, I’m sure you’ve already met.”

The blond standing next to him snorts in response, and is rewarded by a whack to the head courtesy of the prince. “Aominecchi, stop that! This is the guy you’ve been telling us all about, isn’t it?”

“I am honored Denka-sama thinks so highly of me.”

“Don’t get all pompous now, Tetsu.”

“Now,” Akashi says, interrupting and giving Aomine a look. The prince grunts and shuts up—opting to continue it later, Tetsuya knows. “Tetsuya, this is Kise Ryouta of Odawara, and his cousin, Midorima Shintarou of Edo. And here, Murasakibara Atsushi of Dewa. You have heard much of them, I am sure.”

“I have, my lord.”

“Good.” The shogun’s eyes glitter with some sort of triumph that Tetsuya cannot understand as he turns back towards the group of daimyo. “Then, it is settled. We shall start the meeting immediately.”

 

 

 

Tetsuya wakes in the middle of the night, rubbing his eyes with a shaking hand. Dreams of his family have not come so frequently since his move, but they come nonetheless.

 _Even after so long,_ he sighs to himself as he sits up completely awake. From experience he knows he finds it hard to fall into slumber again once this happens. Tetsuya gropes around in the dark for his kanzashi; once found, he puts his hair up and out of the way. The servants have been coming down with fevers lately, and though Satsuki has been running about with the doctors Tetsuya is mindful to bring an extra coat. He has never disturbed anyone in his nightly outings before, and he intends it to be so even with so many extra ears under the roof.

_Listen here, all of you. This will restore peace to the country once and for all._

He had sat through the meeting without saying a word, instead focusing on the group portrait that he’d been there to paint. Akashi had meant for him to hear every word. Though for what purpose that was, Tetsuya still mulls over in wonder as he crosses the wooden walkway towards the more secluded quarters of the estate. He had meant to stay far, far from politics and court intrigue, but Akashi would always have his way with things. _It will come up again, and again, and again_.

(Tetsuya knows by the sound of soft footsteps down the other end of the hall he is not the only one awake right now. But as long as the other keeps to his own, it is not something he minds.)

The moonlight paints everything in the garden a soft off-white, from the first blossoms of the cherry tree to the slim new leaves of the willow. Today the moon is missing an edge, though the stillness of the pond perfectly reflects its glowing almost-circle. A legend once told of a poet who drowned trying to pluck the moon from the water—Tetsuya would not have faulted him for it, upon looking into the pond himself.

The koi, too, is perfectly still, its scales gleaming.

Tetsuya leans forward, studying every spot and splash of color that seem to glow under the moonlight. He’d been busy in working on other projects for the shogun, but now that spring is truly upon them, there would be time to spend with this particular specimen. The gardeners and other servants had taken to calling it _tora-tora_ , and in the absence of a proper name Tetsuya supposes it will do nicely. The black stripes on its back are mesmerizing, striking against its vividly colored base.

“If only you could talk,” he sighs, squatting next to a pile of smooth rocks. “I’d love to know if there are more of you.”

“Meow!”

Tetsuya stumbled, almost falling face-first into the pond. His hair streams down round him as he heard a _plop!_ and soft feet disturbing the pebbly walkway. Two gleaming yellow eyes stare at him as he looks up. He purses his lips.

“Don’t do that. There’s fish in the kitchens, you know.”

“…”

Satsuki’s cat wrinkles its nose at him and stalks off into the bushes, tail held high. Tetsuya smiles to himself and shakes his head; it is only a cat, after all. It was foolish to be scared so easily. Then he touches his hair and frowns. “Oh no…”

The tortoiseshell kanzashi had been a gift from his grandmother, upon completing his first painting. Well. He looks into the depths of the pond hopefully. The koi is still there, but there is no sign of anything else except lily pads and floating flowers. Tetsuya sighs; he will have to make a request in the morning. It would disturb the fish—he gives it one last glance before rising. “I hope you haven’t eaten it.”

 _Tora-tora_ mouths at him wordlessly from its watery palace, then with a swish of its tail disappears entirely under a lily pad.

 

* * *

 

_Why did you drop this in here? Is it a gift? Anyway, I’m keeping it. Just so you know._

What do you mean? Who are you?

_Who am I? You mean you don’t…ah. Never mind. You won’t remember this in the morning._

I remember all my dreams.

_Oh? That’s big talk. You won’t, I assure you. You just need to remember my name, Kuroko Tetsuya._

How do you know _my_ name when I don’t know yours?

_They talk about you near me, I hear things. That’s about it, really. You paint stuff and … stuff, I guess._

This is a very strange conversation, mister … ? You still haven’t told me, you know.

_…Right._

_My name is Kagami Taiga._

 

* * *

 

“Ah,” Akashi says, looking into the pond thoughtfully. “I would not know where you would have gotten that name. However…that would be a good name for this fish. Don’t you think so?”

“Some guy’s name for a fish? Why don’t we just call it dinner?”

“ _Dai-chan!_ That’s not for eating!”

“I’m afraid Satsuki is right in that, Daiki.” Akashi hums as the koi circles the length of its small kingdom, pausing underneath a flower petal to inspect it. “Perhaps a little ironic, but fitting nonetheless. _Kagami Taiga_.”

Tetsuya nods respectfully; he does not remember where he’s heard the name, but it had been hovering at the forefront of his mind since waking up this morning. That, and the matter of his kanzashi. Akashi and the imperial siblings had wandered into the garden in the middle of Tetsuya’s search, with the head gardener helping him net through the pond. Their efforts had turned up little apart from mud and sticks. “It does sound quite poetic, Akashi-sama. Perhaps I had simply dreamed the name up.”

“Perhaps.” Turning his attention towards the blooming cherry tree, Akashi smiles. “This will make a wonderful picture. Speaking of which, there will be a _hanami_ outing next week.”

“Shall I bring my tools?”

“Nah, he just wants you to finish the thing from yesterday.” Daiki shrugs, yawning. “But that can wait too. You up for some riding this afternoon? Kise and I are racing.”

Tetsuya eyes him and shakes his head. “You should work on your calligraphy for the presentation next month, Denka-sama. It is atrocious.”

“Hey! I take great offense to that.”

“He’s right, you know.” Satsuki pushes him out through the walkway, lecturing as she goes. “And I _know_ what you were doing last night, don’t think I…”

“To reiterate,” Akashi coughs, and Tetsuya immediately turns his attention back to the shogun, “You do not need to bring your tools. But after seeing this scene, I think it will do nicely for a series of seasonal portraits. What do you say, Tetsuya?”

“I will get to it immediately then, Akashi-sama.”

 

* * *

 

_“So, at least you got that part right.”_

_Tetsuya blinks. Where there had been nothing seconds before there is a man standing, in his dreams. He knows this is a dream—he remembers all of them, after all._

_The man is tall, around Prince Daiki’s height. His hair is a shock of very familiar crimson, and so are his eyes staring straight at Tetsuya. There’s a sort of intensity in them, a little wild, exacerbated by his strange forked eyebrows. But the first thing Tetsuya notices is the kanzashi in his hair._

_“That’s mine.”_

_“Not anymore.” But the man reaches up anyway, touching it hesitantly. Tetsuya has spent enough years observing people to notice the change in his demeanor. “I mean, yeah, but. You gave it to me. Didn’t you?”_

_“Gave…?” He looks closer, at the man’s robes of deep red, a pattern of orange chrysanthemums interlaid with black starting from the middle. A face that belied the almost boyish shyness in his movements gives Tetsuya the answer. “Kagami Taiga? Are you the…the…”_

_“Um, about that…”_

_“I see,” Tetsuya murmurs, softly, as he sinks to the ground. Kagami, for his part, mostly seems bewildered. “Are you a spirit? I know you are.”_

_“If that’s what you want to call me.”He watches Tetsuya pensively, as if he cannot decide whether to help him up or not. “You said…you wished I could talk, right?”_

_“I did say that.” Tetsuya stands up, a little self-conscious himself now. He walks forward boldly, until he is two steps away. “This is very strange, if you will forgive me for saying so, Kagami-sama. I have never known any spirits like you before.”_

_“Ah, er. You don’t have to call me that, uh, Kuroko?”_

_“Will Kagami-kun suffice, then?”_

_Kagami nods. “Listen, Kuroko, I gotta go now. I can’t really stay like this for long. Can I ask you a favor?”_

_“Of course.”_

_“Don’t tell anyone about this, alright? About me existing. If you remember when you wake up, that is.”_

_“I won’t. Will I see you again?”_

_“Of course you’ll see me.” Kagami gestures vaguely behind him, but there is a smile on his face that hadn’t been there before. “You see me in the pond every day, don’t you?”_

 

* * *

 

“Kuroko? Oi, are you listening to me?”

“…Ah, I apologize. Takao-kun, were you saying something?”

Takao lays down a pile of blankets at Tetsuya’s feet, then folds his arms across his chest. “Aish, I’d been calling you for ages! Come help set up.”

It is, Tetsuya reflects as he pats down the blankets and makes sure everything is in order, certainly a very private affair, this _hanami_. Akashi had brought no servants, and so it falls to each person to make sure their own place is set. In reality, Midorima had somehow bullied Takao into roping Tetsuya into doing everything (in Takao’s words.)

But even all the way from his side of the grove Tetsuya could also see Midorima helping Takao with the blankets, so perhaps that hadn’t been the case. Or, more accurately, that is just how they are.

(The others, however, are a great mess. Tetsuya can plainly see Murasakibara lying in the grass in a position not at all befitting his status. Daiki and Kise chase each other between the trees and falling petals—it would be romantic if not for the way Kise trips and Daiki tumbles after him into a ditch.)

“You would think we are still children,” he comments offhandedly to Satsuki, who is taking all of this in with no surprise. “Though I am sure they have little time to do this normally.”

“Yes—even Dai-chan, well, you know how he is.” Satsuki props her hands up under her chin, resting her elbows on a stack of lacquered bento boxes. Akashi had excused himself to retrieve something, and they are alone for the moment. Tetsuya watches a butterfly meander round the patch of grass, landing on Murasakibara’s head for a brief moment before taking off again. Spring has most certainly come, for nature as well as for them. “Though I will not complain when we are safer now than ever to be so.”

“Akashi-sama _does_ have a very concrete plan for reconstruction.”

“I can only hope that is enough.” The hint of wistfulness in her voice makes him think of his grandmother, and Tetsuya nods in agreement. “Ah, not that I do not find it a good plan…there are many more years ahead of us. We cannot always be certain of everything, though we can certainly try our best to prepare.”

“Would that not be the heart of the matter?” Akashi interjects smoothly, walking up between them. “Tetsuya, I take it that you still have not found your treasure?”

“I have otheres,” Tetsuya says, knowing Akashi is looking at his new, dark-lacquered kanzashi, beautiful but no heirloom item. He is careful to keep his voice even; it is not a lie he tells, but even so. “It is not a problem, Akashi-sama. The fish can have a hairpiece to keep it company.”

“If you say so.” The smile on Akashi’s face is benign as he passes them in a flurry of petals, but Tetsuya can see the seal of the imperial army on the scroll he is holding. The war is not yet over. He watches the rest of the group convene, abandoning their play, and thanks the heavens he is not made for this.

 

 

 

Tetsuya finishes the spring painting in five weeks, with Satsuki imitating alongside him. It would have taken him less if not for the violent sickness that had spread through the castle halfway through—spring sickness, the healers call it. Most days Tetsuya painted from the confines of one of Satsuki’s sitting rooms, venturing out to the pond when absolutely necessary. The sickness does not seem not a deathly one, but worrisome enough that Akashi had the gates closed for two weeks and the sick quarantined in a corner of the estate away from the others. The three daimyo would be at court for half a year, and it would not do to have them come down with illness in the middle of the shogun’s plans.

“The sick seem to be getting better now,” Satsuki comments, putting down her brush. “Although we will continue borrowing the daimyos’ men for the time being for observation, if another wave comes down with it. I’ve never seen something like this before—they were so listless.”

“Perhaps it’s the changing weather that’s doing it,” Tetsuya replies, looking out the window. The last of the cherry blossoms had fallen, replaced by deep green leaves. “Most of the sick had spent their time outside—gardeners, groundskeepers. That’s why Akashi-sama doesn’t want us going out, isn’t it?”

Kagami has not come to his dreams in a while. Tetsuya wonders if spirits can take sick as well, and if so this might not be so simple as a general ‘spring sickness.’ The days stretch longer as the weather warms up, and life fills the land. _It will soon come here_ , he thinks drowsily. That night he falls asleep almost immediately after settling into his covers.

 

* * *

 

_“Kagami-kun?”_

_There’s a grunt of acknowledgement from the darkness. The spirit materializes next to him this time, scratching his head. “Hey, how’d you know I’d be visiting today?”_

_“It seems about time. You’d been gone for a while,” Tetsuya replies without hesitation, taking in the healthy glow that seems to emanate from Kagami.“I’d thought you’d taken sick, but now that I see you it does not seem the case.”_

_“Why would you think that?”_

_“Because that’s what’s been happening, up here. You said you can hear us talking, so surely you would have known this.”_

_“Hah?” Kagami gives him a sidelong glance, crossing his arms. “Only humans get sick. Besides, there haven’t been much people coming to visit.”_

_“…Does it get lonely down there?”_

_“Lonely? Nah.” And then, because Tetsuya can tell he is obviously lying, he frowns. “Look, I can’t really communicate with just about anyone._ _Only people who…really want me here, I guess. It’s hard to explain._

_…Have you ever seen other spirits before?”_

_“A long time ago, but I don’t remember anymore.” It had not occurred to him that he would see anything again. Before Tetsuya was ten he had, as his grandmother told it, often seen things that weren’t there. A costly and arduous trip to the imperial shrine had finally cured him, but it left him with no memory of those spirits his family had claimed he could see. “Were there no other candidates other than a lowly painter? If what you want to ask of me is—to be set free, or some such, perhaps asking another—“_

_“No! I mean, where else would I go?” The redhead shrugs, looking away for a moment before composing himself. “It’s not like I have real legs to walk away with. This is just a projection. Getting caught was my fault…and, well, there was someone, but…it doesn’t matter. I’m here.”_

_“Oh.”Tetsuya tilts his head in thought. “How does that work, anyway? Can you find me anywhere?”_

_“You’re kind of hard to spot for a human, to be honest, but…as long as I can catch your scent, I guess.” Then he points to the kanzashi on his head and smirks. “Won’t be too hard with this around.”_

_“I see.” He smiles. “I wonder what my grandmother would think, if she were here to see it.”_

_(They talk about that then, human lives and human deaths, yet at the back of his mind Tetsuya knows there is a question he’s forgetting to ask. He never remembers.)_

 

* * *

 

“I’m showing mine to Seijuurou,” Satsuki tells him proudly, brandishing her scroll at him in a comical fashion that sends Daiki snickering. “Since you said you wouldn’t show yours to him until they’re all done. It’s not bad, is it?”

“Not at all,” Tetsuya replies, inspecting the brushstrokes closer. Fluid lines dissolve into soft clouds of pink and plum on the page, with a touch of grey. “You did a wonderful job with the flowers, Midai-sama.”

“How about mine, Kurokocchi?”

“You basically just copied Tetsu’s.”

“Hey! At least it looks great— _yours_ doesn’t even look like a painting!”

Ignoring their bickering, Tetsuya leans forward to look at Kise’s rendition of _Spring with Cherry Blossoms_. “It _is_ very similar to what I drew. Although … why is Kagami-kun yellow?”

(Daiki’s he passes over completely, because the only recognizable part of the garden scene on the ragged piece of canvas are a few rocks and a splotch of red in the middle.)

He watches Kise extend his arm into the pond, wriggling his fingers around. The fish does not come, however, and stays watching them from beneath its usual lotus pad, scales gleaming a brilliant scarlet under the sun. Every time Tetsuya looks at him the colors seem to shine a little differently. A trick of the light, perhaps, but it is what makes for such varied paintings.Then Kise pulls his hand back, frowning as he shakes the water off. “It’s a little cold in here, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, now that you say so…” Daiki squints up at the bright sky, then grabs Kise’s hand. “Probably just this side of the castle. Come on, let’s go back inside.”

Tetsuya lingers behind to gather up the scrolls, but Satsuki lingers at the doorway, watching him. “Midai-sama, should I go fetch you a coat?”

“No, it’s not that—“ She looks at the brilliant green foliage of the cherry tree, but her thoughts are clearly elsewhere. “You’ve heard, of course. There’s a bit of trouble with consolidating the domains down south.”

Tetsuya considers her words carefully. “Akashi-sama does seem distracted as of late. He has been doing a great deal for our country.”

“He has,” Satsuki nods. “Well, at least we are here for him. I can only imagine…”

She does not finish that sentence, but to Tetsuya it seems more like reminiscing than anything else. He escorts her out of the garden, catching a flash of color peeking out from under the lotus in the last moment.

 

* * *

 

_“How long have you been around, Kagami-kun?”_

_“You’re asking me like I’d actually remember.’”_

_“So, a long time then?”_

_Kagami tilts his head in thought; there is something so utterly human and oddly familiar about that one movement that Tetsuya stares at him intently, the words bubbling at his mouth but not surfacing. There’s only so much one could do inside a pond all day, and so many people to watch. Surely he would not be imitating Satsuki’s cat._

_“No, not really.” He toys with a wayward strand of hair as he speaks, the look in his eyes telling—it is the same as Satsuki’s from that day in the garden. “We don’t age the same way you do. Even then…”_

_“I doubt it’s been long, either,” Tetsuya says quietly, watching his fingers still. “You seem unsure, Kagami-kun. That doesn’t sound like what a thousand-year-old spirit would say.”_

_“Alright, I get it,” Kagami growls, reaching over to ruffle his hair. Tetsuya dodges, a tiny smile on his lips, but he gets caught the second time. “You laughing at me or something?”_

_“Of course not.” He places his hand on Kagami’s, blinking as the other makes no attempt to pull away. If Tetsuya had thought his skin would be as cold as the fish in the pond, he had thought wrong. Although this is, still, all in his imagination. “That just means you have a long time to learn about the world, doesn’t it? That’s a good thing.”_

_“…Yeah.”_

_A long time. He does not ask if Kagami would like to go anywhere else, if, surely…_

 

* * *

 

 

“Looks like it’s coming along great, Kuroko.”

“Thank you, Captain. Is it lunch break already?”

Summer is hot but pleasantly so in Rakuzan, but the climate is abuzz with other topics. A regiment of the imperial army would be going south later that week, the first part of Akashi’s plan set in motion. Tetsuya puts down his brush, studying the unfinished outline of the pine tree. Two more days and it would be done. He leans down, sprinkling a handful of fish food into the water as thanks. Behind him Nijimura shifts from his position near the entrance, yawning discreetly. They had been training here for the better part of two months now. “Yeah, Akashi told me to come get you. You always lose track of time when you paint.”

They are halfway across the hall when Tetsuya notices a glimmer of something in the shadows. “What’s that?”

“What?” Nijimura follows his gaze in confusion. “I don’t see anything. Probably just a reflection or something.”

“I thought…never mind, let’s go. I would not want to keep Akashi-sama waiting.”

“Especially now,” the captain agrees, stretching out his arms. “We’ve been getting a lot of not-so-great news…well, you’ll find out soon.”

 _Something red_. A gaggle of servants whispering animatedly pass them by, their words wind in his ears. Kagami had come to him more frequently lately, in those dreams of smoke and mirrors. They do not talk all the time—sometimes he is only vaguely aware of someone, something, hovering nearby. But all the same, Tetsuya thinks, readjusting his new kanzashi, it is nice to have someone to chat with where he is the one giving advice. Kagami does not seem to understand humans all that well, with all the questions he constantly bombards Tetsuya with.

(He sees Mayuzumi out of the corner of his eye, frowning at something out of his line of sight before disappearing quickly through a side door. _Weird_.)

Nijimura is already talking about strategies that he can’t understand, words that aren’t colors or brushstrokes but gunpowder and ash. Tetsuya can only nod and blink as they enter the courtyard where the sun still shines bright, and try to put everything to the back of his mind.

 

* * *

 

_“Things aren’t going very well up here.”_

_“I’ve noticed.”_

_“That’s surprising, Kagami-kun. I thought you don’t notice much of anything.”_

_“Hey! Is that any way to talk to a spirit?” Kagami shoves him slightly, and Tetsuya falls over in an exaggerated fashion. “Oi!”_

_“I’m fine, thanks for asking.”_

_“Hmph…” He pulls Tetsuya back up into position, though in reality nothing has happened at all. “You_ are _really weak.”_

_Tetsuya shrugs. “You don’t have to be strong to paint. I just do my job well—being strong, that’s someone else’s job. Like Akashi-sama.”_

_“…If you say so.”_

It’s not like I’m immortal, or anything _, Tetsuya thinks, before realizing that isn’t a question he’s ever asked Kagami before. Many books and scrolls were kept in Rakuzan, and Akashi had given him express permission to peruse as many as he’d liked. But Tetsuya had not come across many dealing with spirits or common folklore, much less descriptions of their lives. It is true that even normal koi may live far longer than humans, yet…_

_Kagami’s face is a little more sallow than before, even though Tetsuya has indulgently fed him more than a normal koi’s portion every day since meeting him. Dark circles are visible underneath his eyes, and his cheeks are a little sharper. His hair is limper, wound tightly over the thin kanzashi that used to be Tetsuya’s. Spirit or not, the signs of malnourishment seem hard to ignore._

_It seems to Tetsuya little different from what he had observed in the castle not a few months back. “Are you sure spirits don’t get sick, Kagami-kun?”_

_“I’m not sick,” Kagami refutes quickly, pulling his hand back. “It’s a phase.”_

_“That doesn’t sound very convincing.”_

_“Look, you won’t get it.” There is a detectable edge to his voice, not fear, but close. Tetsuya notices his hands have balled up into fists. “It’s spirit stuff. Don’t worry about me. You’ve got enough to…to think about, as is.”_

_“Kagami-kun,” Tetsuya says, quietly, placing a hand on his lap. Kagami stills and looks at him. “Please, if there is anything I can do…you don’t have to tell me right now. But will you promise to tell me after, at least?”_

_There will be an_ after _, right?_

 _“…Okay.” The look on his face softens, and his hand closes over Tetsuya’s. It is no less warm than he has ever known it,_ _and he remembers their talk from that day:_ I want you here.

_“We have a deal, then.”_

_“Oi! What deal? I didn’t…Kuroko—!!”_

 

* * *

 

Tetsuya is in his room looking over a collection of poetry for the upcoming festival when his door slides open without so much as a sound. He frowns and looks up, meeting Mayuzumi’s dull grey eyes. “Yes?”

“We need to talk.”

“Close the door.” Then, because Mayuzumi does so without any hesitation, Tetsuya finds himself in the wholly uncomfortable position of staring up at him. “What is it?”

“I know you go out at night.”

“As you do.”

“That’s not the point.” Mayuzumi reaches into his sleeve and pulls out a small book, tossing it at Tetsuya. He picks it up from where it lay on the tatami, instantly focusing on the title. _Bakemono Chakutocho_. “Read it. And you look like shit, just so you know.”

“If all you’re going to do is insult me, I’d rather y—“

“I’m not trying to insult you.” The guard purses his lips disdainfully, making to turn around and leave. “I’d just rather you have known about what you were getting into before it affects the rest of us. Your little pet, I mean.”

“Kagami-kun is not a pet,” Tetsuya says quietly. “Nor…nor is he mine. He belongs to Midai-sama, if you are going to be technical about it.”

“Look.”

Suddenly there’s a mirror in front of his face. Tetsuya has never liked the other much, and perhaps even more so when he can plainly see the similarities between them. It is no secret that Mayuzumi is one of the few literate commoners residing here other than Tetsuya, and the painter has often wondered why Akashi mostly let him wander as he pleased. Though, he thinks as he studies the dark circles under his eyes, much the same could be said for himself. “So I had a bad night of sleep.”

Mayuzumi’s eyes flicker briefly to the finished scroll on the wall— _Summer with Pines_. The golden and orange sheen in Kagami’s scales seem to reflect off the dark outlines of the bonsai overlooking the pond. Akashi has yet to see any of the finished scrolls—that would be for later, a presentation for the new year. “I heard him, once. Inside my head. It sounds fucking crazy, doesn’t it?”

 _(There was someone,_ the ghost of Kagami’s voice whispers inside his head, almost apologetically. _but…it doesn’t matter.)_

At the very least, there is now a mutual understanding that none of this is going into Akashi’s ears. For the moment. “It happened to me too, Mayuzumi-san. Kagami-kun just wanted someone to talk to.”

“You can tell me that again when people stop getting sick. Yeah, I thought it was just a dream, but then I noticed who was getting fucked up and I—I can't believe you haven't realized already. You're the only one he hasn't touched.”

Tetsuya stares at him. “How did you know Kagami-kun is sick?“

“I’m not talking about hi—“

A loud, terrible wail outside distracts both of them. Tetsuya immediately jumps up and heads towards the door with Mayuzumi hot on his heels. The hallway immediately outside is deserted, but he can hear the sound of footsteps farther down. “The courtyard, I think.”

“It sounded like Midai-sama,” Mayuzumi mutters to himself, and then his eyes go wide. There, amid the sound of footsteps, is the clatter of wheels and the faint whinny of a horse. Tetsuya sees first Daiki running down the parallel walkway, followed closely by Kise, and then the rest of the daimyo. Then comes Akashi, and Tetsuya knows he has never seen a more frightening expression before. “Fuck.”

“Mayuzumi-san?”

 _Riders_.

 

 

 

The castle is quiet.

He cannot hear anything save for the gentle breeze ruffling the cherry tree’s bare limbs and the prickly green needles of the pine. Tiny ripples dance across the pond’s surface, breaking against the rocks. All Tetsuya feels is cold.

He kneels.

Kagami swims up to the pond’s edge, watching him curiously. He looks much the same as always, a little better than before. A tiny drop of rain falls into the pond, then more, and more.

 _When an area is afflicted by malevolent spirits_ , he remembers from the book, _the people will become listless, as if taken ill. The already sick and wounded will die soon, their life force depleted. As such, there are many such demons in times of war and strife. When a spirit has taken enough, it will be able to take on the physical form of a human._

_The best way to do this, for a spirit, is to eat someone with the Sight._

“It was a disaster,” Tetsuya says, calmly. The knife hidden in his sleeve tickles his skin, a reminder of what he is here to do. It had been so obvious, once he'd started reading, once he had gone through the records inside the infirmary. “The expedition. Forgive me if I do not want to speak about it at length. I thought you would like to know.”

“They are coming.”

The messengers had brought word that fighting had broken out near Nara, and by then everyone knew. It would turn northward soon, towards Kyoto. Towards _them_.

“Akashi-sama is proud, but he is no fool. There are too many of us here.”

Bubbles of air come up to the surface, as if replying to his words. The pages of Mayuzumi’s book seem to burn in his chest. Soon the frost will alight again, across the land, across every rock and tile and beam that holds up this estate, across the bare rock and branches within reach of his arm. A work of art that he would have no time to paint.

“We will leave soon. I don’t know when, but only for a while. I’m just saying this now in case I don’t have time to, later on.”

He reaches into the water, and Kagami bumps against his hand gently. The orange ribbon cutting across his back seems like a wound, inviting. _Do it now. Now, before he swims off._

The knife burns cold against him, and he feels it sliding out, slowly.

_Put it this way: you’ll be doing a great service to your lord. It’ll be painless._

Something rolls over his fingers, a shimmer of red. Kagami nips at his thumb—it is painless, but perhaps the numb cold of the water had as much to do with that—and swims away glibly, hiding under the wilting lily pads once more.

Tetsuya pulls his hand out of the water and sees a fish scale at his fingertip, gleaming warm colors.

_I can’t._

He feels a little sick, a little relieved, but the words do not leave him as he stands up to go.

 

 

 

“Tetsu-kun?”

He starts, whirling around to see Satsuki standing in his doorway. She is wrapped tightly in clothes much too hot for the weather, but it seems to Tetsuya they are already in the midst of deep winter. “Midai-sama? You should’ve left an hour ago, with—”

“I don’t want to go.”

“But…”

“It’s selfish to say so, isn’t it?” She smiles at him sadly, her frame small against the wooden walls. As of late there has been no person inside the confines of this castle who doesn’t look lacking in sleep, and Satsuki is no exception. Tetsuya wants to reach out, touch her, but he cannot do anything but shake his head. There is no time for mourning when the world is falling apart around them. “I…I’ll be going with Ki-chan, in a while. Will you really not be coming? I can ask him to wait.”

“Someone needs to stay.” He does not tell her about the book resting heavy against his chest, about his shaking legs when he saw the bloody carts roll in, about the thunder and fire in Akashi’s eyes. She has already known all of that, and more. “I will leave with the servants. There is something I still need to do, Midai-sama. The sketch for the last portrait.”

“Tetsu-kun, you don’t have to—“

“Please.” He looks at her steadily, but his voice shakes. “I’ve already given Denka-sama the others for safekeeping. I suppose this is my selfish request, if you will grant it to me.”

 

* * *

 

_“I’ve never seen you fall asleep painting before.”_

_“…Kagami-kun?”_

_“Don’t move.”_

_He couldn’t even if he had wanted to. The fuzzy feeling is back, of a vague presence nearby, but this time he hears things, and he is talking. Tetsuya can hear water dripping somewhere near. “Are you angry?”_

_“N-no! Why the hell would you think so?”_

_“You’re a bad liar, Kagami-kun. I’ve said so before, haven’t I?”_

_Silence. Goosebumps sit atop his skin, and he wonders vaguely where Kagami could have gone. Or if he had, after all, noticed what had happened by the pond…_

_“I don’t think I’ll ever understand.”_

_The sound of his voice is so soft Tetsuya could almost have sworn it had simply been something he’d conjured up himself. “I don’t think I will, either. But we try. That is the only things humans can do, Kagami-kun, in the face of things we don’t know. Even if it kills us.”_

_“Damnit, Kuroko,” Kagami whispers, his voice clearly tinged with frustration._ And something else _, Tetsuya hears, though he cannot bring himself to make sure. “You should’ve done it when you had that chance. You should’ve run.”_

But I didn’t.

_For a moment he has the impression that fingers are closing in around his neck. Then, as quickly as it had come, it is gone._

 

* * *

 

He is awoken by the sound of screams and footsteps, and the heat against the side of his face. _Fire_ , Tetsuya thinks groggily as he scrambles to his feet, the scroll and inks clattering to the ground. _So they’ve come._

Although Akashi had given him permission to train with the troops more than once, Tetsuya has never been good at nor fond of weapons. Someone streaks past the hallway, then another, and the last one falls over to the ground. Tetsuya runs up to them and kneels down, frowning, but his hand comes away bloody. The air smells like sulfur and rust.

“ _No_ ,” is all he manages before he hears the trademark crack of a gun going off somewhere near. He leaps up and melts into the shadows as armed men storm by, yelling and swinging their weapons. There is a faint sound of something crashing, up near where the main doors are. Tetsuya can only hold his breath for so long before he slides down to the ground, his nails carving indentations into his cheeks.

If he thought he’d felt fear when Akashi had come to his house all those months ago—

Quickly he dashes across the empty hall, and he sees fire. Water from the past few days of rain still pool in several indentations on the ground, but it is not nearly enough to help. With most of the people already cleared out of the castle, Tetsuya knows there is no way they can stop the flames from spreading short of a miracle.

_Out. I need to get out—_

Someone shouts, “There’s one over there!”

His immediate reaction is to duck as an arrow narrowly misses his face. Tetsuya runs against the creaking pillars, his heart pounding so fast it is all he can hear. He is dimly aware of the sprouting flames above his head, several beams of wood crumbling down to hit someone chasing after him. He turns a corner, ignoring the yells behind, and runs straight into Satsuki’s abandoned room.

Tetsuya leans heavily against a dresser, holding his breath as much as he could as footsteps thundered outside, then quieted. His feet hurt; he seems to have sprained his right ankle in the process, but fear and excitement had quieted the throb. There must have been even more than the ones chasing him—Tetsuya knows how strong Rakuzan’s defenses are, even with how little men left stationed here, and just thinking about it gives him cause to tremble. The gates would be full of enemies, watching and waiting for innocents to pile out in fright, and then—

_Why can’t I do anything?_

A flicker of light above him alerts him just as the ceiling at the far end comes crashing down, flames dancing across tatami mats. Tetsuya goes for the door immediately, pulling himself up with some difficulty, and punches a hole through the paper to pull it open. He can hear no footsteps, only his own heavy breathing.

He picks up a charred stick of wood, stepping out hesitantly. Someone is crying in the distance, though he cannot tell who or why. The heat against his back is unbearable.

 _“_ Gotcha! _”_

Tetsuya isn’t sure if the scream is his, but his mouth is open as he falls, painfully, to the ground. There is no sound, or perhaps there is too much sound. All he sees is the firelight glinting off metal, and another beam crashes to the ground.

“Please,” he manages, finally.

The sword is raised.

 

 

_Can you find me anywhere?_

 

 

It never comes down.

Instead, Tetsuya cries out in pain as a piece of the ceiling drops down on his side. He rolls away, slapping at his waist as he strips off the burning outer layer of clothes. “What—“

“Kuroko!”

His assailant is lying facedown; above him stands someone Tetsuya has never before seen in the flesh.

“Kagami-kun?”

There is something strange about the way he moves, but then Tetsuya realizes it’s the fact that he can still see, faintly, the fire behind. Kagami looks down at him, then at his own, somewhat translucent hands—he looks bewildered more than anything. _War and strife_ , Tetsuya thinks, strangely composed despite the torn clothes and blood streaked across his arms. He feels a little faint, and his whole body is begging for reprieve.

 _It is not perfect yet, his body._ He opens his mouth, a suddenly painful endeavor, knowing what is to come. “I know it’s probably not the right time, but. You promised you would tell me what this was all about.”

His words seem to shake Kagami from his trance. “That was a mistake.”

“You’re going to kill me,” Tetsuya murmurs dispassionately, as much to himself as to Kagami. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to die anyway. There are more of them—”

“They’re all dead,” Kagami replies, his voice harsher than Tetsuya has ever heard it. He knees down to face him, but the look in his eyes is distant. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

“Make it fast, then.” Tetsuya coughs, dizzily. He wonders if Akashi could see the burning lights, from the camp down the road. If he’s seen it, he would do something about it—surely. He turns away. “And don’t—“

“What the hell are you talking about, Kuroko?” Kagami tugs at his arm, pulling him to a sitting position as he shields him from the flames. Tetsuya’s eyes widen as he feels himself stand upright, and he leans on Kagami heavily—it feels solid, more or less. _Warm_ —though whether from body temperature or the fire, he cannot tell. Something twists in his chest at the almost gentle tone of his voice. “I’m getting you out of here.”

“But—“

“Damnit, Kuroko, I’m not eating you.” He glances at the rooftop, pushing them out of range of the falling debris. “Can you walk?”

“I sprained my ankle.”

“Weak,” Kagami mutters, but Tetsuya soon finds himself hoisted up, the spirit’s arms tight under and around him. The debris seems to fall to the wayside as they make their way through the wreck of a hallway. Tetsuya notes through half-lidded eyes that the fire does not seem to burn Kagami even as he steps right into the burning courtyard, the smoke surrounding them stopping just short of stinging his senses. He scrunches his eyes tight and turns into Kagami’s chest at the sight of the first body, but they do not stop, and neither does the pain in his legs.

_Where are we going?_

_Out there, where you belong._

_This is a dream, isn’t it? A terrible nightmare._

_…Is that what you think of me?_

“No,” he whispers, his fingers digging into Kagami’s skin. Tetsuya opens his eyes and looks up, the sky stained with hues of red and orange. Kagami is looking at him, and they’ve stopped, somewhere along the way. “Never.”

“I can’t tell if you’re lying,” Kagami murmurs, glancing away. “But okay.”

“I mean it.” He looks up, biting away the intense surge of emotion washing over him. Tetsuya can see the gates already, the entrance blocked by several burning logs. He does his best to not look at the bodies on the ground, or think about what they mean. The book Mayuzumi had given him has been lost somewhere along the way, but he can feel every word sting his face. _The human and the spirit cannot coexist…if, by some extraordinary chance, the spirit spares the human…_ “Put me down, I can get out from here. Kagami-kun, you should go back inside—please.”

“I can’t do that.” Kagami stares at the logs, the words sprouting almost mechanically from his mouth. “You can’t even walk, how are you supposed to climb that?”

“Then I’m not going either.”

“…If this is a joke, it’s a really bad time to be making one.“

“It’s not a joke. Kagami-kun, you can’t last long like this, can you? If you leave…”

 _It’s selfish, that’s what it is_ , he would reflect later on, _that I am not the one taking away that which isn’t mine, and yet_. Kagami’s fingers press deep into his torn clothing, his skin, and Tetsuya can already feel himself slipping. _Humans have died for less_. The folly of this war had been testament to that.

He reaches up to touch Kagami’s face, and finds it wet. _The fire_ , Tetsuya thinks, shaking his head, _It's just sweat. Fire, and..._ “You don’t have to give it up, Kagami-kun. Let me down.”

Kagami starts climbing.

His footsteps are more calculated now, less bold as he was walking through the flames. Tetsuya holds on tight; even if he were to let go, Kagami would just pick him up again. The wound on his side did not throb as badly anymore, but he could still feel his consciousness waver. He closes his eyes, for a little while. _If I doze off now…_

“Kuroko.”

When he opens his eyes once more, he finds himself resting against a pine not too far from where the path up to the castle. Kagami is in the middle of draping someone’s coat across him, and Tetsuya can see with horror just exactly how transparent his body is, now. He inches forward, ignoring the blisters on his hands or the hurt in his legs or the cold, cold earth below him. “Kagami-kun, what—what are you doing?”

“You need something warm,” Kagami mumbles, frowning. “I got these off one of the—“

“ _Don’t tell me_ ,” Tetsuya mouths urgently, grabbing his arm. For a moment he seems to have grasped at nothing; he looks up, and the look on Kagami’s face is all he needs for confirmation. “You need to go back, _now._ “

“And then?” Kagami says, voice low. He pins a corner of the cloth in place perhaps more heavily than he should have. “You already know—someone else might—it doesn’t fucking work like that, Kuroko. I—”

_I don’t want you gone._

“You’ve done more than enough for me.” Tetsuya traces a finger along the outline of his face. His own is numb—it is first frost, he remembers, but this is not a cold that comes from the seasons. Winter will be soon. On the morrow, he thinks as he leans back, completely exhausted, Akashi would come thundering back with an army at his back. _They will find nothing_. “Please take care of yourself more, Kagami-kun.”

Kagami closes his eyes, his grip wrinkling the fabric of the coat so much Tetsuya would not have been surprised if it broke into little pieces. Hesitantly he rests a hand on the other’s neck, feeling shallow breathing— _alive_. For the moment, Tetsuya cannot tell if it is water he sees in Kagami’s eyes, or if he were simply made of liquid, apt to evaporate any time before his eyes. “I could say the same for you.”

_Why don’t you ever think about yourself?_

“I do, Kagami-kun. That’s why I want you to go back.”

“It’s too late now.”

Kagami’s lips brush against his, hesitant at first, then readily. Tetsuya leans in fully, tasting everything and nothing at once—charred wood, freshwater, the air after a torrential downpour. He wants to cry out, to ask for more, but the words refuse to form in his mouth. The pine trees above sway in the chilly autumn breeze, murmuring, and his arms tighten around Kagami’s neck one last time before he feels the immense drowsiness overtake him.

_Go to sleep, Kuroko._

“Why should I,” Tetsuya mumbles, already falling to his side. He vaguely feels Kagami tuck the coat around him, a lingering trace of fire on his lips. Something light rests on his lap, unmoving. “You, I’ll see you…”

 _You’ll see me in your dreams,_ Kagami affirms, brushing his bangs away from his forehead. Somehow, somewhere, he’d put his hair down, and his lips are curved upward _. I'll send a message to you. You'll see, Kuroko._

 _Yes,_ Tetsuya replies, smiling now as the voice dissolves around him. He can’t imagine why, why on earth he is crying _. Kagami-kun, I’ve never seen you like this before…_

_That’s how…_

 

 

 

“Here! Over here—Shin-chan, I’ve found him!”

“Takao, is he…?”

“Nah, he’s still alive.”

Tetsuya cracks open one eye, the rush of words around him confusing and terrifying until he finally comes to. Takao is standing in front of him, looking more concerned than he’s ever been for anyone other than Midorima. “Hey, you…are you alright?”

“Takao-kun…” Then his eyes go wide. “Where’s Kagami-kun?”

“What do you mean?” Takao squints at him. “Well, maybe he’s not quite alright, Shin-chan. At least you’re alive, huh?”

“Don’t make jokes like that just because Akashi isn’t around,” Midorima cuts him off, frowning. Tetsuya looks down, catching the glint of sunlight on the thing resting in his lap. “Kuroko, you…how did you get out?”

“I…I don’t remember, Midorima-sama.” He touches his side—it does not hurt anymore. Takao pulls him up, dusting the fallen leaves off the coat. Gingerly Tetsuya nudges at the dirt with his injured ankle. “They were coming after me, and I must’ve crawled out…out…”

Midorima studies his face carefully.“Well, Akashi might want to ask you more about that, but it doesn’t matter right now. It was foolish of the opposition to attack a stronghold devoid of any officials. Akashi’s sent Murasakibara after them now. It won’t be too long until their leader is captured, thank the heavens.”

The castle is still smoldering in the morning sun, although upon closer inspection Tetsuya finds the damage is not as terrible as his delirious state had thought it to be. Still, he hobbles quickly through the cleared gates, with Takao following curiously behind. All that remains of last night’s carnage are dark stains of blood on the ground the remaining servants are busy trying to scrub away. Tetsuya feels ill just looking at the walls. “I see you’ve cleaned up the bodies already.”

“Well,” Takao ventures, haltingly, “We couldn’t actually, ah, _find_ any of the bodies.”

“What?”

Takao makes a face, but quickly becomes serious as he points. “Not in _this_ part of the castle, at least…I haven’t gone to the back, yet. Might not really want to go there, since it’s still smoking and all.”

 

 

 

The pond is dry.

Tetsuya sees the charred remains of his last scroll atop one of the smooth rocks, the ink discolored and cracked, the paper broken into too many pieces. He ignores it, scanning the thin layer of mud and papery, crumbling grass for any sign—bones, scales, anything that had once been alive and moving.

(He ignores it all, the mournful shivering of the cherry tree, the chattering pine. _There is nothing here, and not for you._ )

“ _It is forbidden_ ,” he recites quietly to the empty pond, from a book he seems to have read centuries ago, “ _To become attached to this world, when one is not of this world. Any incompletion, any wavering, and he will cease to be_.”

The tortoiseshell kanzashi glitters between his fingers, then rolls down, sticking into the pebbly earth. He can see the wear and scratches that had not been there before under his own careful polishing. _As long as I can catch your scent, I guess_. Tetsuya stands up at the sudden rustle of trees above in the wind, frowning as the breeze swirls around him—a chill exists there that reminds him again and again of the changing seasons. A single red leaf flutters into his face, touching on his nose briefly; he reaches up, fingers pinching its slender stem so hard he is surprised it does not break. He remembers Satsuki telling him all those months ago about _momijigari_ , the court viewing of autumn foliage.

"This is the first one I've seen," he tells the wind, pressing the leaf softly to his lips. _Thank you._

It is sweet, the scent of autumn rolling into winter, staining a canvas that can only ever exist inside his head. 

**Author's Note:**

> \- _Tora_ is the native word for 'tiger' in Japanese.  
>  \- "Bakemono Chakutocho," a diagram book of youkai, was actually published in 1788 (this series is set in the 1590s).
> 
> a quick semi-translation from the foreword of the song in the first note:
>
>>   
> __  
> A painter of Fusang*, Qianxi, loved to paint koi in his city of Tai-an.  
>  In front of his house was a lotus pond, where he played often with the fish.  
> His time was one of strife, where warlords clashed with one another and battles raged, and demons haunted the land.  
> The war pushed close to his city, sending his neighbors running. Qianxi did not leave, because he did not want to leave his koi behind.  
> At night his house caught fire, but he was protected. In reality the koi had been a demon to take his life, but he had grown fond of Qianxi, and so did not.  
> In the morning when the fire smoked out Qianxi woke, and there was nobody there.  
> Qianxi thought it was a dream and ran to the pond, only to see that the water had gone and the lotus dried, and there was no sign of any fish.  
> He had not seen who had saved him, only the lotus petals on his sleeve, its colors bleeding tears.  
> Later the poets said, any spirit who falls in love will become ash. Like a moth to flame, it is not foolish, but the way of fate.  
> 
> 
> *A mythological land sometimes interpreted as Japan.


End file.
